Hocus Pocus
by heartsways
Summary: Silly Halloween fluff. Kind of. Emma wants to celebrate Halloween but Regina is less than enthusiastic.


**Title:** Hocus Pocus  
**Author: **heartsways  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Fandom: **Once Upon A Time  
**Pairing:** Regina/Emma  
**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.  
**Summary: **Silly little Halloween fic. My attempt at fluff. Kind of. Happy Halloween!  
**Author's Note:** You can find me on twitter: heartsways or on tumblr

"Halloween?"

Regina looked up from her desk, twin lines burrowing into her brow as she stared at Emma with barely disguised horror.

"Uh, yeah," Emma said, shifting slightly on the floor. She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and rested on her heels.

A silence fell between them as Regina's eyebrows rose and she turned back to the papers on her desk, signing the bottom of one with a flourish before carefully placing her pen onto the desk.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said, shuffling the papers into a neat pile. Tapping them with one finger, satisfied, she looked back up at Emma, a tight smile on her lips.

"O-kay…" Emma drew the word out slowly, watching as Regina's smile never faltered. She also saw how it never reached the Mayor's eyes, either. Her heart sank a little. Regina might be good at hiding things from the general populous, but when it came to Storybrooke's finest, there was nothing that Regina could really secret away behind a false smile and a brisk, businesslike manner.

Sometimes, Emma thought, being able to see a lie was more of a curse than anything else. Especially when it came to the tenuous relationship that she had with Regina. The woman had told so many lies that it was second nature now, a habit that proved difficult to break.

And Regina was Emma's own habit, impossible to ignore and infuriating as hell. Puffing out her cheeks, Emma heaved a weighty sigh. She'd given up smoking with more ease than she was ever likely to give up on Regina.

Odd, then, that she had a sudden craving for a smoke. Or to shake that condescending smile off of Regina's lips.

"Well," Regina said, clasping her hands together on the desk in front of her. "If that's all, then – "

"No," Emma butted in. "That's **not** all."

"I said 'no', dear. Surely that's all there is to say about it."

"Yeah, well, in case you hadn't noticed, your Majesty, you're not the queen of Storybrooke. You don't get to call the shots when it comes to our son."

Regina's gaze hardened, eyes glittering suddenly. Her lips pressed into a firm line but she said nothing. The tips of her fingers turned white as she clenched her hands together, not least at the way Emma threw the title at her so easily. If they were still in Fairy Tale Land, none of this would have happened; Regina would never have found herself in this predicament with the daughter of Snow White. She might have exercised a greater sense of self-control and a good deal more caution than to allow herself to be pulled into Emma's life, her arms and, Regina's lip curled a little, her bed.

"And how, may I ask, is this anything to do with Henry?"

"It's Halloween!" Emma threw up her hands, letting them fall back against her thighs with a loud slap. "He's never celebrated it. He told me."

"We don't acknowledge that particular festival here," Regina said shortly, avoiding Emma's enquiring gaze.

"Come on, everyone celebrates Halloween. It's meant to be fun, you know?"

Ignoring the cajoling tone of Emma's voice, Regina huffed a little and shook her head. "It's hardly something to be made fun of."

She pushed back her chair and walked across the room, pouring herself a glass of water before lifting it to her lips, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She looked the same as always, impeccable and stylish, just as she'd intended; the costume she donned as part of this world that she'd created. But her eyes, full of dark intent that she'd tried so hard to leave behind, spoke of another world, a pain that weighed heavily on her heart and wouldn't go away.

Regina turned away from the mirror so that she didn't have to see it anymore. If ignorance was bliss, then she was beginning to yearn for the humdrum lives that the rest of Storybrooke lived. Then she'd never have to know what she'd done; never have to grieve over it or deal with the encroaching sense of shame that had haunted her lately.

"Hey," Emma approached her, coming to a halt in front of Regina, noticing how the Mayor's hand shook a little as she replaced the glass onto the tall drinks table. "There's a difference between **having** fun and **making** fun, you know."

"Yes," Regina nodded abruptly. "I'm aware of that."

"So what's the problem then? Henry's a good kid; he deserves a little fun."

Emma moved a step closer, reaching out tentatively and closing her fingers over Regina's upper arm.

"I'd say that you probably need to have a bit of fun, too."

Now Regina rolled her eyes and shrugged off Emma's hand, putting her hands onto her hips.

"I'm the Mayor," she responded curtly. "I don't get to have fun."

"Right," Emma said, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "So all those nights I end up in your bed…that's not fun for you?"

Regina had the grace to blush a little, two bright spots of color appearing high up on her cheeks. "That's different," she muttered.

"But not really," Emma countered. "Jeez, Regina. It's just a silly holiday. Lighten up a little."

"It might be a silly holiday to you, but I don't want our son to indulge in celebrating the dark arts."

Emma couldn't suppress the laughter that bubbled up her throat and over her lips. "The dark arts? Really?"

She felt Regina bristle before the Mayor shot her a venomous look. Her laughter died instantly and Emma blinked underneath the weight of Regina's gaze.

"Shit," she murmured. "This really bothers you, doesn't it?"

"I don't want Henry near anything that could be dangerous. Children are susceptible to the influences of things that they know nothing about. Dabbling with dangerous things can lead them down a very dark path indeed."

Regina's voice was halting, a confessional before she was able to snatch the words back. Her gaze flickered, shadows passing over her face as she shivered with the memory of it – of what she'd done, what had been done to her. Magic had unleashed parts of her that had rolled over her conscience like an all-encompassing wave, pulling her under and drowning the girl she'd once been – the woman she might have grown into.

A thickness rose in her throat and she swallowed over it, half-turning away from Emma's enquiring gaze. But there was that hand on her arm again, strong fingers grasping at her and forcing her to face a pair of wide, green eyes.

_If only she knew_, Regina thought sadly. If only Emma was aware of just how far magic could take someone away from themselves, she would never dismiss it as 'fun'.

"Listen," Emma said gently, "I don't know what happened to you as a kid to make you this way. And – and I don't have to, okay?" She leaned in a little as Regina stiffened; the scant details that Regina had let slip – usually in the afterglow of their lovemaking or when she was caught unawares – hadn't exactly made her childhood sound idyllic. _Something else we have in common_, Emma thought grimly, remembering her own solitary upbringing, where Halloween had been something that other children experienced. But not her. _Never_ her.

"But here's the thing," Emma continued, her thumb tracking a line over Regina's upper arm, rubbing the material of her blazer with an oddly comforting touch. "Maybe both of us didn't have the kind of childhood that we wanted. But don't you think that's all the more reason to make sure that Henry **does**?"

"I…" Regina began, then stopped, clamping her lips tight shut.

"Besides, I was kinda thinking of pumpkins and silly costumes rather than Ouija boards and summoning dead spirits," Emma leaned in, peering into Regina's face. Her eyebrows rose hopefully and she attempted a smile, breathing in relief as she saw the corner of Regina's mouth quirk upwards a little.

"And this is normal?" Regina finally asked, her voice quivering a little over the question.

"Yeah," Emma nodded firmly. "It's normal, Regina. And I figure that Henry could do with a dose of normality in his life, don't you?"

"I'm not opposed to that in principle," Regina responded quietly. She'd spent so long living a life distinctly abnormal that she wasn't even sure what 'normal' looked like anymore.

It didn't mean, however, that she wasn't curious to find out how it felt. Even if it was to be at the hands of Emma Swan, she thought, a little ruefully.

"So…is that a 'yes'?" Emma frowned.

"It's not a 'no'," Regina smiled politely, rather enjoying the exasperated look that colored Emma's features. "You'll make sure he's safe?"

"Me?" Emma shrugged and let out a chuckle. "I don't know whether you've noticed, Madam Mayor, but we kind of share Henry. So we'll share the responsibility for keeping him safe, too."

"Oh, you expect me to go trick or treating with him?" Regina scoffed dismissively, but as Emma stepped even closer and their bodies were almost flush against one another, her derision died in her throat.

"I expect you to wear a costume, too," Emma said in a low tone. "Trick or treat, your choice."

Despite her reservations, Regina couldn't deny the crackling electricity between them; the way in which Emma's hand was creeping underneath her blazer to curl around her waist, lingering hot and promising on the silk of her shirt.

"Considering you've already tricked me into doing this," Regina said, as Emma's lips hummed a line of sensation against her throat, "I'll assume you want a treat."

Emma stood back and viewed Regina carefully, her gaze sliding over delicate features, noting how warm Regina's eyes could be, wondering what lay beneath their unimaginable depths. She was a little surprised at how much she wanted to find out.

_Maybe that was the biggest trick of all_, she thought with a smile. She'd always thought normality sucked, that because it had never been offered to her it was to be spurned and mocked. But it wasn't until she'd come to Storybrooke that Emma had realized normality and routine was to be found in the strangest of places.

"I'll pick you up at seven," she grinned, as Regina rolled her eyes and let out a begrudging sigh. "You **and** the kid. Don't be late."

"Really, Sheriff," Regina stalked across the office floor to her desk, where she dropped into her chair and shook her head. "The liberties you take might give people the impression that **you** run this town, not me."

Emma paused at the door leading outside and lifted her hands in the air with a shrug.

"Things are changing in Storybrooke, Madam Mayor," she said with a tilt of her head. "Even if it does include things that go bump in the night," she added with a wicked smirk.

Regina pursed her lips disapprovingly. "And here's me thinking we were doing this for Henry," she said.

"Sure we are!" Emma exclaimed delightedly. "But when the witching hour is upon us, I can't make any promises that I won't try and put a spell on you." She exited with a flourish, the door closing loudly behind her.

Left alone behind her desk, Regina let out a long breath and leaned back in her chair. She thought of Henry, of the joy on his face every time Emma turned up at their door, of how normality had crept up on them without her even knowing it. How they'd become, to all intents and purposes, a family; the one thing she'd always craved more than anything else – more than power, more than magic, more than vengeance, even.

"You already have," she murmured to herself.


End file.
